


Dean Winchester and the Temple with the Fertility Rite Chamber

by krysnel_nicavis



Series: Random SPN Porn Collection [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Arguing, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting on the same page, M/M, Porn With Plot, Post-Season/Series 12, Sacred Sex, Season/Series 13, Sharing, Top!Dean Winchester, bottom!Castiel, resolved emotional tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-20 14:25:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12434691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krysnel_nicavis/pseuds/krysnel_nicavis
Summary: There’s an entity in New Orleans and, assuming they translated the text Sam found correctly, the artifact they need to lock this entity away is located in... an ancient hidden temple in Maine?? Dean and a newly returned/currently de-powered Castiel go in search of the artifact. If only these glyphs were easier to read.





	Dean Winchester and the Temple with the Fertility Rite Chamber

**Author's Note:**

> (Includes various references to, among other things, the movie Stonehenge Apocalypse.)

“Seriously. Since when does hunting involve hunting for treasure.”

“Stop complaining. We both know how much fun you’re having playing Indiana Jones.”

“I’m still not used to that.”

“You should be. I ‘call you on your shit’ enough.”

“I mean you knowing who Indiana Jones even is.”

“Oh. I’m getting much better at accessing the information Metatron ‘zapped’ into my mind.” Dean grumbled something. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” The pout on his face said otherwise.

Cas sighed. “Are you jealous?”

Dean stopped walking. “Wh-wh- Me? _jealous?_ ” He scoffed. “Why would _I_ be jealous? I have _nothing_ to be jealous—”

“You are. And you know I know it. Now stop posturing like an ass. I’m the only one here.” Cas continued moving down the dark and dusty hallway, flashlight aimed at the walls as he tried to decipher what the hieroglyphs could possibly mean, and ignored Dean’s sputtering. Whoever thought there would be an ancient temple in Maine? The book Sam had found with the information they needed had been written in _Ancient_ Atlantian. Which was markedly different from the Atlanian anyone on earth was aware of — at his current power level, Castiel couldn’t easily recall much of the more obscure languages and dialects.

”I-, wh-, _you’re_ ass— Shut up.” Dean stomped past him. Castiel sighed but didn’t comment. It would only prolong the tantrum that Dean would deny he was having.

They continued down the corridor. Hopefully, Sam’s research was correct and this artifact would actually help them seal away the entity that had been recently unearthed in Texas.

Dean sneezed. “Can we pick up the pace so we can get out of here?” he groused.

Cas sighed, not bothering to look up from the crudely drawn map he was referencing. “Would you stop kvetching and let me think?” If their translations had been correct, there should’ve been a second corridor somewhere around this location.

”Kvet— There’s nothing wrong with voicing your concerns, you big baby.” Dean crossed his arms and definitely _didn’t_ pout.

”Uh huh,” Cas responded distractedly. He squinted and trailed his flashlight along the wall.

”Or need I remind you of the _last_ time we were in a dusty old…” He broke off his train of thought with a gulp. Castiel paused as well. They both _did_ remember the last time they were in a situation similar to this together. Back when they were looking for the angel tablet and _she_ had Cas under her thumb. When Cas had…

”I’m sorry… for that,” Cas admitted, staring at the map without seeing. “I didn’t…” Didn’t mean to? His programming at the time said otherwise. He certainly didn’t _want_ to. Then to just leave once the connection with _her_ severed…

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I didn’t get my turn.” Dean’s voice was as heavy with regret as Castiel’s chest. They both remembered _that_ clearly as well. That time when Dean still had the Mark… Dean cleared his throat. “So how much further to this magic rock?”

Dean was giving them both an out. He took it before the emotional weight caused one of them to react rashly and cleared his own throat. “It’s not a rock, Dean. It’s an artifact.”

”Which, as far as anyone is able to tell, _could_ end up being a rock.”

Cas sighed and resumed searching the wall. “According to the translation of the text Sam found, there should be another hallway around here that leads to a chamber—“

”Like this one?”

Castiel turned around to the opposite wall where Dean’s flashlight was pointed. Huh. He could’ve sworn the text had indicated the corridor was off the righthand wall. “Yes. Like this one.”

Dean rolled his eyes with a grin. “C’mon. Let’s get this ‘artifact’ and get outta here before you get lost in your own museum again.”

Cas sniffed, affronted. “I am _not_ Marcus Brody.”

”Okay, fine, _Marion_. Don’t get stuck in a basket.” He lead the way down the new hallway.

The chamber wasn’t overly large. Probably about three times as large as the prison cell Dean had been locked away in for two months back when he and Sam’d been accused of trying to assassinate President Rooney. And the only thing in it appeared to be a large block of dirty stone. He crouched to examine the stone while Cas focused on the walls.

”You think it could be inside this thing?” he asked as he brushed the the built up dust and dirt from the side of the stone and… Oh. _That’s_ interesting.

”I’m not sure. The text didn’t indicate that the artifact would be encased in anything specific.” Cas tilted his head as he studied the hieroglyphs on the walls. Most of them looked like any glyph that might be found on a random wall, but some of them looked like…

”Something tells me this is the wrong chamber,” Dean said. Cas turned to see the revealed glyphs on the front of the stone. They were much more graphic than the ones on the walls.

”I believe you may be right.”

Dean chuckled and stood, using the stone as leverage. A rumbling sounded throughout the room. “What the—“

Flame torches around the room sprung to life. Stone slats fell into place in the open doorway, sealing them into the room. A strong gust blew through the room, dimming the torches. It whistled and roared in their ears. They had to cover their eyes as dust and sand kicked up. A gong sounded from somewhere distant and everything stopped moving. The only sound in the room was their breathing.

They looked around. The entire room had changed… sort of. It wasn’t made of rough stone and the layer of dust was gone. Everything from the walls to the stone (altar, they could now see) was made of smooth, shiny black marble, the hieroglyphs inlayed with gold.

”What the hell just happened?” Dean asked as he turned off his flashlight, Castiel following suit.

”I believe we were just sealed in-“

”I know _that_ , genius. I mean _how?_ ”

Castiel frowned. “How should _I_ know?”

”Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because _you’re_ the one with the map?”

”First of all, just because I have the map doesn’t mean I know _everything_ about this place, and second, the translations of the text didn’t indicate-“

”Whatever. How do we get out of here?”

”This wasn’t _my_ fault, you bitchy brat.”

_”Excuse me?”_

”You heard me.” Cas got right up into Dean’s face. “Ever since I got back, you have done nothing but bitch, and whine, and complain about how much everything has been an inconvenience to _you_.”

”Well all _you’ve_ done is grumble and scoff and moan about how irritating experiencing humanity is, and go on and on about how put out you are at having to go through it _again_. I get that your mojo is taking a long time to bounce back, but at least it’s _going_ to.”

”Well _maybe_ if I didn’t have to do nearly everything _by myself_ it wouldn’t seem like such a hardship.”

”What the hell are you talking about?”

”I’m talking about Jack.”

”What _about_ Jack?”

”You don’t even _try_ with him. If it wasn’t for Sam, who the hell knows what would’ve happened to Jack in the time I’ve been gone.”

”You’re mad at me because I wouldn’t play step-dad to the Son of Satan?”

”I’m mad because you wouldn’t help guide a child through being human just like you wouldn’t do for _me_!”

”I- Is _that_ what you think I did?” Cas didn’t respond. “I… Dammit, I _never_ wanted to—”

”I know, Dean,” Cas interrupted, his shoulders sagging. “I. I don’t know why I brought it up. I…” he turned back to the altar.

”I am _so sorry_ about turning my back on you when you needed me the most…”

Cas sighed. “I know that too.”

”You have every right to be mad at me. I’ve…” It was Dean’s turn to sigh in defeat. “You’re right. About Jack. I’m an asshole.” He choked out a humourless laugh. “I’m just like Dad.”

Cas looked at him. “No, you’re not.”

”Yeah, I—“

 _”No_ , you’re not. _You’re_ willing to compromise. I know you.” He placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. The one he always touches. The one where the handprint used to be. “Now that you’ve been called on it, you’ll be willing to change. Your father never would.”

Dean cleared his throat and shrugged a shoulder, glancing around the room again. “So, how do we get out of here? What is this room for anyway?”

Cas blushed as he looked back at the altar. It was a little lower than waist height. A perfect height for… “Honestly, the last time I saw a room that looked like this,” he gestured to the hieroglyphs that depicted humanoids in various sexual positions, “was in ancient societies that practiced the art of Sacred Sex.”

”Say what now?”

”What?” Castiel frowned and tiled his head.

”Sacred _sex_?” Dean looked torn between shock and glee. “As in… as in what exactly?” he frowned.

”Most of what I observed were fertility rites and religious acts of sexual worship.”

Dean grinned. “Now _that’s_ a religious practice I could definitely get behind.”

Cas shot him a bitchface. “That may be, but it looks like it’s the only thing that’ll get us out of here.”

”W-wait, what?”

Castiel sighed and turned to the blocked of doorway. “Do you see these glyphs?” He indicated the single row of symbols in a column on the slabs that sealed them in. “This glyph indicates a union of some sort and this one…”

”You have no idea.”

”I have a general idea, based on what was in the original text and I do remember the basics of the more modern version of Atlantian.”

Dean studied the glyphs. “Looks like a sun and a wonky cross.”

”The cross is likely a pre-cursor to the Atlantian glyph for procreation.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You have no idea.”

Cas sighed. “I really don’t.”

Dean took a closer look at the altar itself. “Well, I gotta admit, you’re most likely on the right track.”

”What makes you think that?”

”I’m pretty sure there’s only one reason to have that much porn carved into a single piece of rock.”

”It’s… never mind.” Cas pinched the bridge of his nose.

”So…” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks heating up. “How d’you want to do this?”

”Wh-what?” Castiel’s normally deep voice sounded like he was just hitting puberty with the way it cracked.

”Like you said, it’s the only way we’ll get out of here,” he said as he removed his jacket.

Castiel went completely red. “I- uh, well, I…” He suddenly felt like he was back in the den of iniquity Dean once took him to in an effort to help him lose his virginity. Only this time he wasn’t a virgin… at least not completely. He slowly removed his trench coat and blazer.

”So,” he clapped his hands, rubbing his palms together. “I guess a little bump ‘n grind isn’t going to cut it. So we’ll probably have to actually…” He mimed putting his cupped hands together and gestured incomprehensibly. “Have sex. That means one of us is—“

Cas sent him another bitchface. ”I’m eons old, Dean. And I know more than you _ever_ could about sexual intercourse.”

”Okay then. Top or bottom?”

”I. Well. I, uh…” He awkwardly removed his tie. “I’m pretty sure we need some sort of lubricant if we’re going to engage in penetrative anal intercourse.”

Dean snorted. “I, uh, I got us covered.” He removed a small purple bottle and a couple condom packets from the inside pocket of his jacket. “Always good to be prepared.”

Castiel stared and swallowed. “It’s probably not advisable if we make use of the prophylactic.”

”O-okay…” Dean cleared his throat and dropped the condoms back onto his jacket. “So… how d-“

”You may be the one to penetrate my-“

”Okay! I, uh. I get the picture. I’m on top.” Dean’s mouth went dry as Castiel finished stripping and laid on his back on the altar. He gulped and cleared his throat _again_. He took a deep breath in an effort to stop his hands from shaking and stepped between Cas’ raised knees. He slid his hands up the man’s strong calves, thumbs brushing over knees, and down thick, muscular thighs. He swallowed and spread Cas’ legs a little more. Taking another steadying breath, he poured some lube onto his fingers. Well, it was now or never. “I’m going to have to prep you for this.” He circled Cas’ hole with a fingertip before pressing in to the first knuckle.

Cas grunted, blinking rapidly. “I, um, I am aware of that, yes.”

”Yeah. I uh… yeah.”

Cas squirmed. Having Dean’s fingers inside him wasn’t distressing, but the lubricated intrusion was odd and the situation felt distinctly awkward. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant either, he was already getting hard. He was sure he was adequately prepared for the act when Dean was able to scissor two, but the fingers inside him seemed to be searching for something. “I realize this makes you uncomfortable, but it is necessary if we wish to get out of here and prolonging it will—“

”I said I need to prep you for this. I realize this is our only ticket out of here, but I refuse to injure you just to do that,” Dean elaborated. He added a third finger, causing the man to lose the impatient expression. “Not to brag, but I’m not exactly small.” Despite what he said, Castiel could detect a hint of bragging in is voice.

”I pieced you back together with my own grace, Dean. I _know_ exactly how big your dick is.” Dean rotated his wrist in lieu of a response. This cause his fingertips to brush against— “WHAT THE _HOLY_ FUCK—“ That wiped the bitchy look off the still regenerating angel’s face. Dean smirked.

”I thought you were eons old and knew more than I could ever—“

”Shut up and do it again, human,” Cas growled. Like, with it actually rumbling in his chest. Dean’s smirk widened but he complied. Cas’ body trembled as he pushed back against the probing fingers.

”For the record, the only uncomfortable thing about this is the stone altar.” He massaged Cas’ prostate again. “I just…” He removed his fingers, causing Cas to huff and glare (which he ignored), he was as prepared for this as possible.

”You just…?”

Dean wasn’t always an emotionally stunted asshole, despite popular opinion. This was one of those chick-flick moments he pretended not to have where he needed to be honest about what he was feeling. He rested his non-lubed hand on Castiel’s thigh, stroking the bare skin with his thumb. He sighed. “I just kinda wish we were doing this for some other reason… or maybe’d done it sooner, I dunno.” He shrugged a shoulder, avoiding eye contact. Cas shifted and a warm hand rested against his cheek.

”Perhaps instead of ‘crying over spilled milk’ we can ‘kill two birds with one stone’ and call this a ‘blessing in disguise’.”

Dean snorted. “Metatron also zap an idiom dictionary into your head?” Castiel, who was now sitting, grinned and leaned into him. Their first kiss was nothing like he’d imagined, and he’d imagined it a lot. It wasn’t frantic or heated or chaste. It wasn’t suited to a porno or a church. They weren’t feeling each other out or trying to convey any specific emotion. It wasn’t a storybook kiss or even the kind he pretended he’d never read about in those Supernatural fan stories (though the fans in question would probably lose their collective shit if they ever found out about this). No. Their first kiss was like he’d imagine their twelfth would be, or their twentieth, or hundredth. It was like they’d been kissing for years. It was easy. Like they really were the old married couple Sam sometimes accused them of being. It was comfortable and meaningful and _home_. “You ready?” He asked when they pulled back. He removed his shirts, letting them fall haphazardly to the floor, and unbuckled his belt. The tiny metal clink of the buckle loud in his ears, echoing in the quiet of the room. His nerves jumped and his fingers trembled in anticipation. He took a deep breath and opened his zipper. Holy shit. They were really doing this. It was really happening.

Cas’ hand came to rest on his, stopping him. He looked into those unearthly blue eyes he’d been captivated by for the better part of _nine years_ , a question in his own. “Dean,” Cas breathed. “Are _you_ ready?” Dean swallowed a couple times, and leaned forward, pressing his forehead to his friend’s shoulder. Arms automatically wound around him, holding him like he was _somebody_. Was he ready? Like, _really_ ready? Kissing him, being _allowed_ to kiss him, was awesome. It was everything he’d ever wanted, right down to his _soul_. But this was an even bigger step. Did he want it? That was a stupid question. He’d always _wanted_ it. But… there was inevitably a but… “You’re not just something to take the edge off. Not just some waitress I picked up at a random diner.”

”I know.” Cas pressed his lips to Dean’s head.

”No, I _mean_ it.” Dean straightened, looking at Castiel. “You’ll _never_ be just something to take to edge off.” He took an unsteady breath. “I mean it.”

Cas searched the features of the face he’d long since memorized. Even before they’d met. A bit of humor bubbled inside him when a stray though flittered through his mind. _’Yes, this is his serious face.’_ “I know, Dean. I’ll _always_ know.” He kissed the man one more time and laid back on the smooth stone altar.

He breathed, willing his body to adjust to the man’s girth as he pressed in. Apparently it was one thing to _know_ how big Dean’s cock was, but completely another to _feel_ it firsthand. He did his best not to resist the intrusion. Dean’s voice was low and encouraging in his ear, the man’s lips trailing along his neck and jawline. Warm, calloused hands held his hips, one thumb caressing his skin. He wrapped his legs around the man’s hips once he was fully seated, encouraging him to move. Feeling his heat against him, _in_ him… feeling him and _knowing_ it was Dean. _Dean_. Dean’s body heat, and sweat, and breath on his neck when the man leaned down, pressing flush against him, face buried in his neck…

 _”Dean…”_ He gasped and breathed his name. Like a mantra or prayer. Like it was the only thing that existed. Like _they_ were the only things that existed.

”Fuck… _Cas_ … feel so good.” Dean rocked into him in smooth, grinding thrusts. Savouring the inviting heat of the body below him. He pressed his lips to the tanned skin of his neck, relishing in the knowledge that a pulse raced just under the surface, a heart beat in his chest. His thoughts strayed to just a few weeks earlier and a harsh sting flared in his eyes… Their third kiss _was_ desperate and heated and felt like Dean was trying to commit it to memory. When he pushed himself upright to gain more leverage, Cas followed, one arm around Dean’s shoulders, the other braced back on the altar.

The chamber echoed with loud moans and the sound of skin slapping on skin. Sweat making them glisten in the warm light of the torches. Cas dropped onto his back, arms raised above his head and he grasped for purchase as Dean thrust into him with quick snaps of his hips. Dean hooked one of his legs over his arm, changing the angle. He was close. _So close._ Maybe… just… _”A-ah, fuck, Cas…!”_ He rode out his orgasm, friggin stars actually dancing in his eyes. Holy shit.

Cas wasn’t too far behind, if the copious amount of precum leaking from his cock was any indication. With the hand that wasn’t braced on the man’s raised thigh, he took his hard cock in hand, stroking to match his thrusts. The dual sensations quickly caused Cas to let out a strangled shout, head back as far as it would go, neck exposed. His long fingers pulled at his hair, unable to grasp the stone block of the altar. _”D-Dean-aah!”_ His back arched of the altar as he came.

The room was filled with a rumbling sound once more.

When they came back down from their orgasm induced highs, Dean pulled out and used his t-shirt to clean them both off. He tossed the soiled article to the side and they shakily pulled their clothes back on. The torches on the walls slowly died.

Using their flashlights, they made their way back to the main corridor.

”So, which way you think we’re supposed to be going?” Dean asked, shining his light back the way they’d come in.

”It’s probably further down this way.” Cas led them further down the corridor, finding another passage on the side he’d originally thought it would be.

Dean was wrong about it being a rock. He picked up the weird metal object. “Looks like the X-Men logo.”

”Let’s get this back before Sam decides to come looking for us.” They were almost out of the temple when Cas chuckled.

”What?”

”Admit it. You were _so_ jealous that you didn’t get to teach me all that pop culture stuff.” He bumped shoulders with Dean.

Dean’s face flushed. “Shut up.” 

\- 30 -

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up emotionally heavier than I’d originally intended.


End file.
